’til the End of the World

La Marseilles

This song wrote itself in a dream. (That’s the second time that’s happened to me.)  In the dream, I was listening to this song on the radio, and I was saying to somebody, “Hey, that’s a good song. I should do that one.” Woke up, couldn’t get it out of my head until I wrote it down.

Some folks take this to be a love song, and I suppose it is. If you listen to it with that perspective, it could certainly fit a love between two people.

But, for me, it’s more than that.

Things are bad right now, and not getting any better – in fact every day it seems to get worse.

You’ve got the cops totally out of control – and you can’t tell cops from soldiers, anymore, either by their appearance or by their conduct. We’ve got cops beating up elderly women, tasering little kids, and shooting puppies. We’ve got strip searches for traffic offenses, and “suicides” by suspects who manage to shoot themselves in the head while their hands are cuffed behind their backs. Try to catch any of this on camera – as it is your right to do – and you might just wind up the next “suicide.” Warrants are a thing of the past. It’s shoot first and ask questions later – if ever. “Serve and protect” has been replaced with “search and destroy.”

“From all that we know, and all that we fear, our sweet dream is gone; our nightmare is here…”

– ’til the End of the World

When Dubya was in office, I never thought it would be possible to see a worse President than that. Psychopath, liar, bully, coward, murderer – if there were any justice in the world, he’d be spending the rest of his life in prison.  But I was wrong. We now have a President who’s even worse than that phoney “cowboy.” Barack Obama has taken all of Bush’s worst policies and run with them farther than anyone ever imagined possible. The PATRIOT ACT, The MILITARY COMMISSIONS ACT, and now the NDAA. Now we have a President who claims to have the authority to have you arrested by the military, put in a military prison, and held there (and tortured, of course) indefinitely – with no charges, no trial, no due process and no habeus corpus – and all on his own personal ipse dixit.  Or maybe he’ll just have you murdered. He thinks he has that authority, too.  That’s the kind of power Caligula had. And Hitler. And Stalin. It’s the kind that NO ONE should have. Not ever.

And the Congress?  Oh, the players in that neo-fascist circle jerk think it’s just peachy. They’re too busy dividing up the swag to worry about trivia like the Bill of Rights.

Maybe you think you’ll take on all this by challenging them in court.But the courts  — especially the Supreme Court –are loaded with corporate pimps, and mediocre legal minds. Don’t take my word for it – read their decisions. It’s enough to gag a maggot.

Want to know what the end of the world looks like?

Just look around you.

A lunatic’s finger painting of hell.


And yet, in the face of all that, despite the cops, the FBI, the NSA, the CIA, the IRS, Monsanto — and all the rest of the Devil’s whores and all the Devil’s blood-soaked crew being marshaled against them — there are still people who have the courage to stand up and fight.

Why do they do it?  How do they do it?


I think it’s love.

Their love of truth, their love of justice, their love of freedom – that love is stronger than their fear.

That love – and the courage and strength it engenders – shines like a beacon on a stormy, starless night.

That love, that’s what we have going for us. It may be the only thing we have going for us.

Yeah, I know what the odds are.  I can’t even remember the last time the good guys won one. But sometimes it doesn’t matter whether or not you can win; but it matters a great deal that you fight.

This is one of those times.

So be strong.

Writing songs like “’til the End of the World” helps me stay strong. Maybe hearing it will help you, too. (I think of that scene in Casablanca when Victor Laszlo leads “La Marseillaise” and drowns out the nazis…)

You can give it a listen here.

If you dig it, you can pick it up here.

Liberty & Justice,



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